


Philophobia

by Suzume



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Dealing With Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Pseudo-Shota, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzume/pseuds/Suzume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maiza is the only one he can trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Philophobia

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding my warning for "underage" - To spare any of you some potential squick, while Czeslaw is physically a child, he's over 300 years old, so mentally he's definitely an adult.

There came a tapping at the door, some gentle type of knock meant to awaken Maiza but not to disturb anyone else. If it were Firo, he wouldn't have hesitated. After knocking, he would come right in. It was someone less familiar with the rowdy, awkwardly mannered way things went around there. Maiza sat up and reached onto the side table for his glasses. He had a feeling he knew whom he would find, but he wasn't the type to make assumptions. "Come in," he invited.

He didn't have to raise his gaze. It was already poised at the perfect level to take in the wide-eyed face peeking in. Czeslaw, as expected. " Should I turn on the light?" his hand wavered over the switch.

"If you would like. But if there's no need for it, leave it off." Maiza adjusted the collar of his nightshirt, but didn't rise from his place in bed. It wasn't exactly his ordinary sort of manners, but this wasn't exactly an ordinary situation. Immortal business and Martillo family business, although they now overlapped, were two different things. In any case, Czeslaw probably wasn't here in the middle of the night about anything "official" at all. He was a deeply troubled man, and while Maiza might not be able to make everything right (there wasn't, for instance, any way for him to change the past), he would do everything in his power to bring positive change to Czes' life.

Czeslaw declined to flip the switch. There was moonlight enough for his purposes. "I keep waking up. I have nightmares." Indeed, he was pale and unable to completely still his trembling. "I was wondering, if it's not too much of an imposition, could I sleep in your bed?"

"Of course not," Maiza smiled. If that small action would be enough to soothe Czeslaw's woes, wouldn't it be a miraculous thing? Maiza knew that such an outcome was well beyond the bounds of reasonable thinking.

"Thank you." The inner brightness generated by the tiny smile arising in his eyes brought the welling of withheld tears to Maiza's attention. If Czeslaw didn't comment on them though, he wouldn't either. Not all problems need to be discussed head on.

Czeslaw's pale nightshirt slid up over his knees as he climbed into bed on Maiza's left. His skin was pale. No scars endured, despite the innumerable tortures he had been through. In a tiny boyish voice, but with the words and weight of a man, Czeslaw whispered hints of things too terrible to name. "I could show you," he made that fearful offer, "Though it's all things that no one should have to see. All I can bear to say I've already said." He held up his small, empty hands. "It's up to you. I wouldn't blame you if you said no. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't trust me to put my hand innocently on your forehead."

Trust was so devalued in Czeslaw's world that he didn't even trust himself. Maiza would have his work cut out for him. "If you're willing to let me see you in those most troubled of times, I don't feel I should even consider turning you down."

Czeslaw had reiterated his warnings. Was it a matter of 'one could never be too sure' or 'I want you to say no even though I'm offering you the opportunity to say yes?' Maiza gently reaffirmed his choice. Working within the Martillo family, Maiza had encountered some complex people and a lot of simpler ones. Czeslaw was more complicated than most.

Sharing those harrowing memories (and they were disturbing indeed), had tightened the bond that had already existed between Czeslaw and Maiza, but it hadn't solved any problems (not that either man had expected it to).

As Czeslaw moved tentatively up against Maiza, the older man was left to wonder if he would feel more or less comfortable about this if Czes looked like less of a child. At least his feelings wouldn't be quite so confused. Czes' toes brushed against his bare skin. They were cold. Maiza wrapped his arm around Czeslaw's dainty shoulders and found him, even with the covering of his nightshirt, as if he had taken a nocturnal dip in the East River. "Do you need an extra blanket on your bed?"

"Not really. Not yet, at least," Czeslaw scooted his head forward until his forehead touched Maiza's chest, just below the collarbone. "I was chilled by fright."

Maiza tucked his other arm underneath and around Czes, pulling him into an embrace. "I will warm you up…"

What kind of voice would Czeslaw have had, had it ever been given the chance to change? What sort of handsome man would he have become if he had only had the chance to grow? In his mind's eye, Maiza saw him, tall and strong and beautiful.

Encouraged by this secure but tender grip Czeslaw snuggled closer. He closed his eyes. Maiza could feel the tears squeezed out by the action seeping into the fabric of his pajamas. Czes sniffled and the tears began to flow in earnest. Maiza stroked his hair, but kept his vow of silence. If only the strength of his feelings could override this pain. Czes shivered as he cried, letting out a tiny gasp as Maiza kissed his brow. "You're so kind, Maiza!" he whimpered, clutching at the striped fabric of Maiza's sleeping clothes. "How could you have lived this long and still stayed this kind?"

What sort of answer could Maiza give to that? "I didn't let the times change me, Czes. …But it truly is easier when you don't have to suffer."

"Oh," Czeslaw gulped in air in fitful breaths, his tears redoubling. "I'm not going to be able to stop crying now, because you are too nice!"

"Shh," Maiza, frowning, wiped Czeslaw's cheeks with his fingers.

As he continued to cry, blotchy red patches began to appear on his face. "I'm not accustomed…to anything but pain, but you, Maiza, and Isaac and Miria, people have started to be kind to me and I don't know what to do. I'm not even certain I know how to be kind anymore myself."

"That's an exaggeration. I'm sure of it. At worst, your compassion is like an atrophied muscle. You have to slowly begin to exercise it again."

"I'd be happiest, I think- Oh," Czes hiccupped, "How embarrassing." But Maiza couldn't suppress the tiniest quirk of a smile from ticking up one corner of his lips. It was stupid, but Czeslaw was smiling too.

"You were saying?"

It was also kind of funny that Maiza had kept his glasses on as they lay in bed in the dark together. Not funny enough to laugh, but it kept Czeslaw smiling. Soon his teeth were gleaming in the charcoal-tinted atmosphere. "I want to do that, Maiza. I want to learn to be kind again. To laugh, to have fun, to trust. And while I'm sure your friends will support me, and Ennis and I can work together, there are some things I'm only interested in practicing with you."

Maiza realized where Czes' emotions were headed before their lips met, but didn't decide until they were kissing how to react. Czes' lips parted in small, novice manner. Maiza teased his tongue between them. Perhaps the kiss lasted as long as it did because breathing was not necessary for either of them.

"I think you've been practicing," Czeslaw commented wryly as they parted.

"Not as much as you might guess, considering the time I've had, but you know I've done my share." Some of the kisses he'd shared were pretty memorable. He'd have to tell their stories; give Czes an idea of the playful things one could get up to out in the world (because he mainly thought of his friend as the adult he was, he forgot for the moment that Czeslaw's kissing opportunities were limited in a ten-year-old's body).

"And you've done more than that too," he nodded, "My body has always been treated to cruelly since then… I can't even imagine…" He trailed off, weighing his next words carefully. Czeslaw crossed his fingers and hoped that fortune would favor the bold. "Maiza, would you make love to me?"

That decision was more difficult to jump into than the kiss. Czeslaw's pre-pubertal body formed a mental barrier. But because of that body, should he be destined never to enjoy a lover's touch? His child-like form had not spared him from the worst physical punishment Fermet had to offer. "I have mixed feelings," Maiza admitted. It felt only fair to explain his silence.

"That's okay. I can understand why." As usual, Czeslaw was prepared to accept disappointment. However, Maiza didn't like that outcome. Czeslaw was not only an adult, but an old man like himself. And, after all, did Maiza not love his little wounded heart? "I will try," Maiza promised.

Czeslaw knew he took his word very seriously. In a world of liars and backstabbers, Maiza was a true man of honor. "Give me something good to dream about," Czeslaw sighed, closing his eyes.

"Could you reach down under the bed and hand me the shoebox there?"

"Oh?" Czes complied curiously. "Here you are."

In the dark, the items were more clearly recognizable to Maiza than Czeslaw, seeing as they were his, but the younger man managed to see enough to respond with a small snort of laughter. "Some naughty toys you've picked up, Maiza."

"Let's keep this vanilla, Czes. I'm afraid of what memories my toys might trigger."

"Oh, I'm not making any requests. I just get a kick out of learning what gets you off."

"Or Firo," Maiza noted.

"Ah," Czeslaw winced, "I'm not sure I needed to know that."

Maiza unscrewed the lid of a jar and dipped his fingers into something slick. Czeslaw slid his underwear down his legs, over his ankles and feet, and dropped them daintily to the floor. His nakedness under the long white nightshirt did have a certain effect on Maiza. He shrugged out of his own pajama pants and underwear. Czes reached out to touch him. The warmth Maiza had done his best to share with him had spread through his body to the tips of his fingers, which he traced all the way down Maiza's length, starting from his stomach. A hand was a hand (though so small it made Maiza feel more like he was with a woman). His penis responded favorably. Maiza turned off his side, rising onto his knees and straddling Czeslaw.

"Take off your shirt," Czeslaw's smile was lop-sided, even somewhat goofy. He began unbuttoning Maiza's pajama top. When he finished, Maiza slipped it off. He leaned closer, sliding a hand under Czes' nightshirt, fondling him until the fabric started to rise up over his erection. Maiza changed tactics then, slowly, inserting the tip of a finger into him. Czes groaned, arching his back. He had been reaching up to toy with Maiza's nipples, but at this exploratory touch, he immediately drew them back to clutch at the bed sheets. "Maiza!" he shuddered.

"Too much?" the other man worried.

"No-! More!" Czeslaw urged.

Watching that grappling of pleasure and pain in Czeslaw's cherubic face, Maiza flashed back to the long-ago loss of his own virginity and the similarly dark-eyed girl he had been gazing on then. Just as gradually as he'd managed the first, Maiza inched a second finger in.

"Maiza!" Czeslaw nearly sobbed. A renewed stream of tears joined the sweat dripping down his forehead. Neither had bothered to flip up his nightshirt. Smiling and crying, Czeslaw came, making a sticky mess of skin and fabric.

The younger man sighed as Maiza withdrew his fingers. "Thank you."

It was an awkward time to be saying so, but the entire situation was awkward anyway, so Maiza answered, "You're welcome." He was hard now, aching over the bliss he had just watched Czeslaw experience, but he didn't have any plans for penetration (he had balked at that from the beginning, uncertain whether he could manage such careful, tender motion if he abandoned the facile tools of his mouth and hands).

"Oh. Oh!" Czes regained coherency enough to think outside himself. "Let me help you finish, Maiza!"

"I'm fine," Maiza shook his head.

"No, I can't just let you treat me so well without doing anything in return. I'm practicing, remember? Being kind." Czeslaw rose up onto his elbows and reached out, closing his hand over Maiza's where it gripped his shaft. "Like this?" he asked, stroking about just as firmly as he'd pet a cat or dog.

"Like that." Maiza could not complain once that touching began. Czeslaw had never stopped being kind. He had merely forgotten how to recognize his own kindness.

"I'm so lucky to have made it back to your side," Czeslaw continued to stroke and rub over the length of Maiza's penis. _So close._

"You know, I thought about you for so long. I can't count the times I wished I had been with you, instead. I don't know what I could have done to change things. Maybe, because I was so young then, it really was completely out of my hands. Maiza, my whole life would've been different! I would've been happy!"

Maiza gritted his teeth against the groan of pleasure that yearned to escape from him; still a small noise escaped his lips as he came. That idea- that Czes could have spent all this time happy- was incredibly potent.

"I enjoyed that," Czeslaw said.

"Let's clean up a bit and get back to sleep," Maiza answered. "No more bad dreams."


End file.
